Moving On
by Transformersfan123
Summary: Sequel to Dark Secrets. Now that Sam's living with the Autobots, new Autobots are coming to Earth and he is excited. If Optimus and his team are so great, that means other Autobots will be great too, right? Rated T for Language.
1. Illness

I finally got an idea for the sequel to Dark Secrets! However, I would like your input. I want to know which Autobots you want to come to Earth and what you'd like to see happen in this story.

Should I make it like Side Effects in what happens to Sam? Or not? I've gotten a suggestion like that for it, so gimme your input. Tell me what you want. Who knows what ideas I'll use. :)

* * *

Sam was embarrassed, which wasn't new. School hadn't been out for more than a week and _this_ had to happen to him, of all people. He couldn't think of a worse predicament he could be in. He had dodged Ratchet all day by spending time outside, but that had only worsened his condition. He cursed his luck as he walked slowly to the base, which was his new home, through the pouring rain with dread in the pit of his stomach. Ironhide was outside cleaning one of his weapons and he noticed Sam first. He arched an optic ridge and smiled, but froze and sniffed the air. He frowned deeply and asked a question that furthered his embarrassment.

"Are you ill?"

Sam wanted to crawl into a hole as he lowered his head and felt his cheeks flush, and not from the fever that had wracked his body for the past few hours. Ironhide snorted at the silent admission and moved to scoop the boy up. Ironhide didn't like Sam's shyness. It made the black mech feel as if Sam were hiding himself from them, which was the reason he didn't like the make-up the boy wore as well. Ironhide was, as patiently as he was able, trying to get Sam to open up more. It hadn't worked very well so far, but the weapons specialist was persistent.

"How long have you been ill?"

Sam flinched at the rough tone. "I woke up feeling weird this morning. It got worse after lunch."

"And you decided to hide out in the forest during a rainstorm to try to avoid Ratchet?" Ironhide asked.

"Yes," Sam admitted in a quiet voice, his cheeks hot.

"You're soaked to the bone and you're temperature readings are too high. Ratchet will not be happy. Neither will Optimus."

"I'm sorry," Sam whimpered.

Ironhide's tone softened. "Come now, let's get you inside."

The black mech carried him inside and the warmth inside the building had him shivering as he realized how _cold_ he was. He had no doubt his face had streaks of black on it from the eye liner washing down his face. He felt optics lock on him immediately.

"Sam! There you are," Bumblebee said happily, strolling towards him. "I was looking for…you…"

Sam flinched as the yellow mech sniffed the air and frowned deeply. He knew he was found out and Bumblebee looked back at Ratchet before coming closer.

"Are you ill, Sam?" Bumblebee asked disapprovingly.

"…Yes," Sam answered reluctantly as his shivering got worse.

Ratchet's upset gaze was on him. "So that's why you were out in the rain. You know that probably made it worse."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you always so against me helping you out?" Ratchet asked in a hurt tone as he walked up and scooped Sam up to scan him.

"It's not that," Sam muttered.

"Then what is it?" Ratchet asked.

Sam went silent and lowered his head. He was even more embarrassed now because his excuse sounded so…pathetic. He snuggled unconsciously into Ratchet's warm metal chest, trying to stop shivering.

"Sam, answer him please," Optimus said in a 'don't question me' tone.

"It's just so embarrassing," Sam finally said.

"What is?" Ratchet asked.

"Just being human around you guys. We can't hide any of our functions from you and it's horrible. I feel like you're judging me because of stuff I can't control. I'm afraid you think I'm, well, gross…"

Sam sat still in Ratchet's hand and felt the five pairs of optics on him as they took in his answer. The poor boy felt butterflies in his stomach, but he wasn't sure if it was fear of their response or his being sick. Probably a combination of both. He stayed there for a minute or two until Optimus took him from Ratchet and held him gently.

"While it is true that you cannot hide the more unpleasant functions of your body from us, that does not mean that we find you 'gross' as you put it. You're a biological being. You cannot help that. We are biomechanical, and we cannot help that. We are still your friends, nevertheless, and therefore you shouldn't be ashamed of your natural functions."

"If it makes you feel any better, we have unpleasant bodily functions too," Bumblebee chimed in. "Like Ironhide's-"

"Bumblebee!" Ironhide snapped, his optics turning a faint purple. "He doesn't need to know that!"

Sam chuckled softly then promptly had a sneeze attack. When he managed to stop sneezing, he was back in Ratchet's hands. Ratchet scanned him again and hummed.

"You need a hot bath to raise your temperature," he said with a nod. "Then you need to rest."

Sam nodded, too drained to care. He was handed to Bumblebee who was given the instructions to bathe him. He was soon in the bathroom being stripped of his cold, wet clothes and lowered into a nice warm bath. Even though it embarrassed him, he allowed Bumblebee to wash his shivering body. All too soon he was lifted out of the tub and toweled off. He was carried out to the other Autobots, where Ratchet took a hold of him and wrapped him in a blanket.

"Now, medical orders are to rest," Ratchet said sternly.

Sam was happy to comply, as he was exhausted. Several hours later he woke up and knew he had to get to the bathroom. He was grateful that the others were recharging instead of watching him sleep (which in hindsight was kinda creepy, but Sam was used to it). He struggled off the berth and ran to the bathroom, knelt before the toilet and vomited everything he'd had for lunch. When he was just dry heaving, he felt a hand sweep his hair back and hold it.

"You okay, mech?" Jazz's voice asked as he soothingly stroked Sam's bare back, making Sam realize he was naked.

"No," Sam croaked. "It feels like my insides are on fire."

"Want me to get Ratchet?"

"No," Sam said immediately then paused and whispered, "Yes, please."

Jazz's holo-form stayed put, but he could hear Ratchet being woken. Suddenly another pair of hands were present and pulled a wash cloth out from under the sink, wetting it and washing Sam's flushed face. He heard the toilet flush and he was picked up and carried to the now-awake Bumblebee who was looking concerned, and a bit frazzled from being woken up in the middle of a recharge cycle. Sam whimpered and reached for him.

"Is he alright?" Bumblebee asked, gently taking the shivering boy and wrapping his hands around him.

"He'll be fine. It should only last a day or two. He's going to be miserable, but we can't really do anything about it."

"I can run out and get him some of that aspirin stuff you were talking about," Jazz volunteered.

"Thank you Jazz, that would be helpful," Ratchet said.

In spite of how bad he felt, Sam smiled. They were kind enough to care for him now that he was sick. His parents never had. Just the thought of his mother and father sent a spike of fear into him. He whimpered and pressed closer to Bumblebee.

"There there, Sam," Bumblebee said kindly. "Jazz already left. He'll be back soon."

Sam nodded and began drifting off. He was shaken awake to take the aspirin that Jazz had gotten for him, then he fell asleep again. The next morning he felt better, but he still didn't feel like himself. Ratchet forbade him from getting off the berth where he lay. He didn't disagree, choosing instead to watch the goings on of the base. He watched the bots' interactions and listened to their Cybertronian tongue.

Will, Robert, Glen, and Maggie couldn't stand their language. When Sam asked them why, they replied that its high pitched noises and static hurt their ears, but Sam didn't mind. He loved listening to the language and wished desperately that he could speak it. Optimus noticed Sam's intent gaze and walked over and picked him up, laying the boy on his lap.

"What are you thinking about?" Optimus asked curiously. "You have a very faraway look in your eyes."

"Just wishing I could get your language," Sam said with a sigh, relaxing into Optimus' frame.

"Oh? I thought it was irritating to human ears?" he asked.

"Not to mine. It's…soothing. I like it."

Optimus smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, you are not made to speak our language. Your vocal cords are not anywhere close to being like our vocalizers."

"Yeah, I figured that," Sam said with a yawn. "Hey Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"Does it bother you that I'm here? That you have to look after a human all the time now?"

Optimus smiled tenderly. "Not at all. You are considered our close friend, so we don't feel the need to hide how we live from you. Now, around Captain Lennox and the others, that's a different story. They would not understand like you do, I think."

Sam frowned. "Why not?"

The other Autobots stopped what they were doing and looked at Sam, who suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wished he had clothes on under his blanket. They approached him and it was Ironhide who knelt until he was level with Sam. He stared at him seriously.

"Sam, there is something very special about you," he finally said. "We cannot pinpoint it, but you seem to understand us better than other humans."

Sam didn't like the seriousness of the situation. He felt like he was being scrutinized, which was something he still wasn't comfortable about. He felt a wave of shyness hit him and he hid his face behind his hair and turned away from Ironhide, who growled.

"You know I don't like you doing that, right?"

"Yes," Sam said quietly. "I'm sorry, but it's too much."

"Maybe you should sleep," Ratchet suggested.

Sam snickered. "Yeah, that'll help. Not like I haven't got plenty of that today."

Even as he said that, Sam snuggled down into the blanket and closed his eyes. He was tired… The next thing he knew, he woke up to excited chatter from the Autobots. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering what was so exciting. He listened to the conversation as he let the blanket pool around his waist.

"I hope Beachcomber's coming," Jazz said, bouncing on his heels. "He'd love it here. He could help us understand this planet better."

"Personally, I'm hoping for Cliffjumper. I miss him," Bumblebee said happily.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," Ironhide said with a grin.

"Another medic would be nice," Ratchet said thoughtfully.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Sam! I'm sorry, did we wake you?" Bumblebee asked, coming forward and picking him up.

Sam shrugged, wrapping the blanket securely around himself. "It's no big deal. So what's all the excitement about?"

"Autobots," Jazz said with a grin. "We got a transmission that says some Autobots got Optimus' message and are coming to live on Earth with us. Isn't it great?"

Sam wasn't sure how to take the news, so he smiled. "That's great!" he exclaimed. "What kind of Autobots?"

"The good kind," Bumblebee joked, making Sam chuckle. "The thing is we don't know who. That's what we were talking about. We were trying to guess who it would be."

"Sounded like you were saying who you'd _like_ it to be, not guessing," Sam said with a smile.

"True," Bumblebee replied. "I do hope, however, it's _not_ Prowl."

"Who's Prowl?"

"Tactician," Ironhide grunted. "All about rules and regulations. Primus forbid you break a rule in his sight, or in a camera's sight. He'll book ya and make ya do time in the brig."

"I like him," Jazz said quietly. "I just hate what he does to my fun streak. He's not very forgiving."

"Prowl is an essential member of the Autobot team," Optimus said. "If Prowl is among the Autobots that arrive in a couple weeks, you will treat him with respect. Even if he is annoying sometimes."

Sam shrugged. "Whoever it turns out to be can't be too bad. I mean, they're Autobots!"


	2. Arrival

Alright peoples, second chapter. I love some of the suggestions, and there is still time to offer Autobot suggestions.

As for the ending, I know I'm mean. :) I is making y'all wait!

* * *

Sam looked around at the various clothes and decided that shopping was horrible. The mechs had decided to take Sam shopping, volunteering to pay for whatever clothes the boy bought. He had asked them where the money came from, and he was told not to worry about it. They wanted him to have some new clothes. He had made the mistake of telling them that he had had the same clothes since his last growth spurt, which had been the summer after his last year of middle school.

The Autobots had split up to look around and Sam had made a beeline for the gothic clothes. His favorite color was black, because he could hide in it, so he would be completely happy with that. His friends, on the other hand, wanted to add some color to his wardrobe. He was reminded of this when his guardian's human holo-form came up to him and guided him away from the rows of black and towards the colors.

"I don't know, Bee," he mumbled. "I'd rather stick with black."

"Come now," Bumblebee said with a snort. "Even an Autobot gets a new paintjob every now and then. Now, how about this?" He held up a red t-shirt with black designs on it.

Sam looked it over and shook his head. "Colors just aren't my thing."

"Come on, Sam, just a little bit!" Jazz exclaimed, holding out a grey shirt with several blue stars.

"Fine," Sam sighed. "That one's just fine, now can we go? I don't like this place."

"We're not done, Sam," Ironhide said with a smirk. "You are getting new clothes, though, so you might as well get used to it. Now come try on these blue jeans."

Several hours later, Sam was relieved to finally leave the clothing store. It had been horrible. They had enjoyed dressing him up so much that he felt like a living doll. He did get several pairs of jeans, and half of them were black, much to the dismay of the Autobots. He also got a few shirts, none of which were black, to his dismay. He got the grey one, two blue ones, a dark purple one, and after a lot of prompting from Bumblebee, the red one. He wasn't too upset though. Just the joy on his friends' faces was enough to put him in good spirits.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Bumblebee asked with a smile.

"It wasn't fun, but no. It wasn't too bad," Sam replied with a shrug.

"Good," Bumblebee said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It was interesting to see everything humans can wear. Though you, of course won't wear most of it."

"Like I said, color isn't my thing. It makes me feel…unsafe," Sam muttered, his shoulders hunching.

"There is no reason for that anymore," Ironhide said simply as they reached where they'd parked. "Hey Bee, mind if Sammy rides with me?"

Bumblebee frowned, but he nodded. "If you want him to."

Sam felt his stomach clench as he heaved himself into Topkick and settled back in the passenger's seat. Why did Ironhide want him to ride with him? He always rode with Bumblebee. He had honestly never ridden with anyone else. His heart was pounding as the truck started and the Autobots pulled out. There was silence for the first leg of the journey, finally broken by Ironhide's deep chuckle of amusement.

"You do know I can feel your heartbeat, correct?" Ironhide asked.

"I figured," Sam said, tracing the leather of the seats. "I'm sorry about it. I'm just a little nervous."

He could hear Ironhide's smile in his reply. "You seem to be nervous about everything, but I suppose it's understandable, all things considering."

"So, why did you want me to ride with you?" Sam asked, forcing himself to relax into the seats.

"I don't know. You just never seem to part from Bumblebee. I just wanted to spend some time with you."

Sam snickered. "You know for a tough guy, you're really talkative."

Ironhide laughed softly, his engine revving. "Only around my friends. Around any others I'm silent and stern."

Sam smiled. "You really put an emphasis on friendship. Why?"

There was a sudden shift in Ironhide's mood and his tone turned sad. "Growing up, I was a loner. An awkward outcast, partly because of my fascination with weapons. By the time the war started, I had taught myself pretty much everything there was to know about them. That's how I got noticed by Prime. He took me and made me his weapons' specialist, but I still didn't fit in.

"Optimus' other officers, Prowl and Jazz and Ratchet, didn't understand my passion, and Optimus truly didn't either. It wasn't until Bumblebee joined that I found a friend. The mech was young and lost and needed a friend as much as I did. When Bumblebee was attacked by Megatron and nearly killed, I lost it and slaughtered countless Decepticons. Optimus found me ripping a mech's spark out. I'll never forget what he called me when he was pulling me away from the bodies. He told me that it was enough, that there was no reason for me to continue. Then he called me 'friend.'

"I was angry at him and showed it by spinning around and cursing at him. I told him how much it hurt that he didn't understand me, and how everyone treated me differently, how the mechs that called me 'friend', besides Bumblebee, laughed in my face and hurt me. After spilling my spark out to him, he comforted me and told me that he was my friend, no matter what others thought of me, and that he would never hurt me. I'm almost sure he talked to the rest of the troops about it, because they never talked about me being different again.

"Despite my social awkwardness, Optimus and Bumblebee accepted me and taught me how to act. I'm sorry if I seem a bit strict on wanting you to conform to act Cybertronian when it comes to your friendship, but that's the way I was taught, and it's hard for me to conform to other types of friendship."

Sam sat in the lingering silence, thinking about the story. That explained Ironhide's insistence on his being a committed friend alright. He settled back, suddenly quite calm and feeling safe with this mech.

"So that's why you're so sympathetic with me," Sam murmured.

"The word you're looking for is 'empathetic', and yes. I understand being an outcast, Sam, so if there's ever anything you need to talk about that you don't think the others will understand, just tell me."

Sam smiled and felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. "Thanks 'Hide. I'll keep that in mind. So…when will the other Autobots get here? Aren't they supposed to arrive soon?"

"Yes. Late tonight actually," Ironhide said happily as he slowed to a stop.

Sam hoped out and was scooped up by Bumblebee. "Tonight?" he asked Ironhide.

"They should be here around midnight," Ironhide replied as the Autobots started walking.

"Cool."

The Autobots began talking in Cybertronian suddenly and Sam listened with joy. He didn't think there was anything that sounded better than it, and he was sure nothing would make him stop liking it. He was abruptly dragged out of his reverie when Optimus spoke.

"Sam, there's something we need to talk about."

"What?" Sam asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach at the tone in the mech's voice.

"We don't believe it is wise for them to see you right away. You're so different from anything we Cybertronians have ever encountered that it might…What I mean to say is you're biological so naturally…"

Sam felt his face freeze up and he looked away angrily. "You mean they might think I'm disgusting, right?"

"Not disgusting, Sam. More like…"

Optimus, who was usually so good with words, couldn't seem to find any at the moment. Sam felt tears sting his eyes. After they'd promised they weren't bothered by his being organic, they were basically telling him now that he _was_ disturbing. Bumblebee gave a distressed whine when he noticed the tears.

"Sam, please try to understand," the yellow mech begged. "We're biomechanical. You're completely organic. They'll not understand that at first and then they'll, well, need to get used to it, just like we did."

"You lied to me!" Sam burst out, turning to face his guardian. "You told me I didn't disgust you!"

"You don't! I mean, not anymore…" Ratchet said, trying to soothe everything.

Sam's anger and hurt burned inside of him and he couldn't stand to be in the Autobots' presence anymore. He twisted suddenly and fell to the ground, landing with a grunt. He dodged Bumblebee's hands, which had shot out to catch him, ignored the mechs' pleas to stop, and ducked through the trees. The Autobots were too big to do so, so he quickly lost them. He passed the base and dove into the thick trees on the other side. He hurried to a small clearing beside a small pool of water made in a deep part of the river, a peaceful place he had been going to long before he'd met the Autobots.

He sat down and sighed, reclining back against a tree and allowing the tears of anger to slide out of his eyes. When they were spent he just stared into the water running through the pool. He was mesmerized by the slow flowing water. Suddenly the water began to swirl and the water in the pool became a gaping whirlpool. Sam was rooted to the spot.

As he watched, the whirlpool turned inside out and exploded upward. Sam pressed back against the tree, his eyes widening and his breathing becoming shallow. The rushing white water suddenly formed the shape of what looked like a Cybertronian with glowing blue optics. He tilted his head as he looked at Sam and stepped forward out of the pool, which began filling back up with water as the river continued its flow. The water-mech knelt down in front of the frightened boy, staring at him. Then suddenly, it began to speak in a deep, slow, gentle voice that was even more comforting than Optimus'.

"So much pain in one so young," it, no, _he_ said sadly. "It was not meant to happen like this."

"It?" Sam asked, his voice cracking with his fear.

"Do not be afraid, young one," the mech said softly. "You shall learn in time. Now, _rest._"

A hand made up of swirling water reached towards and gently touched his forehead. He saw those blue optics and fell into them. There was a flash of blue, and…

He awoke panting. The sun had gone down and a full moon reigned in the sky. Sam hurried to the side of the pool and looked in it, breathing heavily. When all he saw was his shadowy reflection, he sat back on his heels and took a shaky breath.

"A dream," he whispered. "It was all just a dream."

It had seemed so real that Sam just sat there for a while catching up to reality. When he finally stirred he sighed and stood up. The anger at the Autobots had drained away, and now all he wanted was to go and snuggle up to his guardian and apologize to them all. He started back to the base, his thoughts on the strange dream.

A bunch of strange voices tore his mind back to the present and he began to walk slower to cut down on noise, fear building in his gut. Had other humans discovered the Autobot base? Were they compromised? He got to the edge of the forest where the base was in his sight and peeked around the tree trunk. An unbidden gasp left his lips at what he saw. Optimus and his team were beside a strange looking, very large (as in much larger than the Autobots) object, which Sam assumed to be a ship. He assumed that because, as he watched, mechs began walking out wearing strange armor with what Sam knew to be Cybertronian symbols on them. The new Autobots had arrived.


	3. Meetings

It seems a chapter can't go by when Sam doesn't get hurt. I suppose I am rather mean to him.

Suggestions for where y'all want the story to go are welcome. I have a hazy outline, but very few things are definite.

Most of all, enjoy!

* * *

Sam watched with fascination as mech after mech left the ship. Even from where he was standing, he could hear the Cybertronian they were speaking, and it made him smile. Suddenly one of the new mechs spoke English for the first time.

"What an odd language," he said slowly. "It's so slow, almost tranquil."

"Beachcomber, it's good to see you," Optimus greeted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's good to see you as well, Optimus Prime," Beachcomber replied almost shyly. "I thought we'd never find you. It's only by chance we got the message, you know. We were starting to fear we were the last remaining Autobots."

Beachcomber responded to a Cybertronian noise and stepped aside. As soon as Sam saw that mech, he had a pretty good idea of who it was by the way he carried himself. Optimus' greeting just confirmed his suspicions.

"Greetings Prowl."

"Greetings Optimus Prime," Prowl replied formally. "I am happy to see you alive and well."

"The same to you," Optimus responded. "Now, who all have we got here?"

"Well, there's myself and Beachcomber, our medic First Aid, Mirage, Hound, the security director Red Alert, and the twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe." Sam couldn't help but notice the contempt the mech put on the last two names.

"Eight new Autobots," Jazz said with a low hum. "We'll have to expand the base. For now, I'm afraid you all must sleep on the floor, unless you'd rather stay in your ship."

"I told them that as soon as I saw this planet," a mech snapped. "It's filthy here!"

"Sunstreaker," Optimus said coolly. "This is an organic planet. You must get used to the dirt. Besides, if you ever need a bath, you are welcome to take one. We have wash racks set up, but they only hold five at a time."

"Bumblebee?" a shy voice suddenly asked as one of the shorter mechs pushed forward. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, First Aid. Yes, I suppose so."

"You can talk?!" the new mechs exclaimed in unison.

"The Allspark fixed my vocalizer before it was destroyed," Bumblebee said irritably then turned and his optics scanned the forest.

"What are you looking for in that organic mess?" another mech asked.

"I'm looking for Sam, Mirage," Bumblebee said sadly. "He's angry at us."

"What's a Sam?" Mirage asked.

"He's a human boy."

"Oh, so he's like a pet?"

"Pet?!" Sam hissed in disbelief. "No way in hell am I a pet."

"No. He's a friend," Ironhide said in a no nonsense tone. "And if I catch wind of any of you treating him as such you shall be in trouble."

"I would like to see a human," yet another mech said excitedly. "When is he coming back?"

"We don't know. We upset him earlier with our comments," Bumblebee said. "You'll eventually get to meet him, Hound, so don't worry."

"Yes, for now why don't we go inside?" Ratchet asked.

Sam watched as they went into the base before coming around the tree and sitting against the trunk to where he could see the building. Some time passed and the door suddenly opened and the mech called First Aid came out. He looked sad. Sam frowned and followed the mech to behind the base, where he sat down and looked up at the moon. After weighing his options, Sam slowly slid out from where he was hiding at the corner of the building.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

The mech started and turned around. "Oh!" he exclaimed and his optics scanned Sam up and down. "You're a human! Are you Bumblebee's human friend?"

"Yes," Sam said. "My name's Sam. You're First Aid, right?"

"Yes. How did you know?" the medic asked.

"I was watching you guys when you got here," the boy admitted then looked back up, determined. "Why are you out here and not in there?"

"I don't know," First Aid lied.

Sam laughed softly and moved closer. "You'll have to do better than that to lie to me."

"Oh. Well," the medic murmured. "I just don't fit in, I suppose. They're talking about the battles they've fought and the mechs they've beaten, and I just can't join in. I'm a pacifist, you see. I don't fight in the battles. I'm just the medic."

Sam hummed softly then gasped as First Aid picked him up none too gently. He wriggled in discomfort as he was lifted up to the mech's gaze. He was poked and prodded by the medic as he looked him over. He reminded the boy of Ratchet the first time he willingly let him fix him.

"First Aid, I, um, don't mean to be rude, but this is a bit awkward for me."

"Oh…Why?"

"Because I don't really know you very well."

"But I'm a medic," First Aid protested with a small frown. "I need to understand your body if I am to fix you when you get hurt."

"I know, but-"

"First Aid, where did you go?" Bumblebee asked as he came around the corner. He paused when he saw the medic and Sam. "Sammy! There you are!"

"Hey Bee. Sorry 'bout earlier," he said as the mech hurried over to take him out of First Aid's hands.

"That's alright, Sam," Bumblebee said as he stroked the boy's back. "First Aid, we have turned from the discussion of battle to other topics. You can come back inside now. I'm going to stay out here with Sam."

Sam frowned. "I take it I'm still not seeing them?"

"Well, you're kinda the topic," Bumblebee said sheepishly. "Optimus is telling them how to act around you."

"Great," Sam muttered.

"I don't understand," First Aid said. "Are there rules?"

"Well, Sam is our friend. We don't want him to be treated like he's inferior to us just because he's organic. Why don't you go inside? Optimus will explain it all."

First Aid left and Sam snuggled against Bumblebee. "I don't like being talked about."

"It'll help you in the long run," the yellow mech said softly. "Sunstreaker and Mirage especially don't like organics. They just think they're, well, gross and beneath them."

Sam frowned. "Wonderful."

"But you're not," Bumblebee said forcefully. "You are fine."

Sam shrugged and settled into Bumblebee's chest. He suddenly felt tired even though he had slept for several hours. That thought brought his dream into his mind and he decided to share it with his guardian.

"I had a strange dream," he stated. "This mech came up out of the river, but he was made of all water and had nice blue optics. He spoke to me."

Bumblebee laughed. "Sometimes I envy the human ability to dream. It sounds like it would be fun. Mechs made of water, how silly."

That comment stung. He had been about to say just how real it had seemed, but decided against it. It was silly, he decided. There was no way a mech could be made of water. It just wasn't possible. With that thought, Sam closed his eyes and slept.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wake up, Sam," Ratchet's voice said.

Sam grunted as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What?"

"It's time to introduce you to the others. They've just woken up from their recharge."

Sam nodded and Bumblebee stood from where he'd sat all night. The yellow mech stretched and he and Ratchet began walking back to the front of the base in companionable silence. Sam felt butterflies in his stomach as the door opened and eleven pairs of optics landed on him. Jazz walked over with a smile on his face.

"Everybot, this is Sam."

There was silence broken by a shy voice. "Hello again, Sam," First Aid said, waving.

"Hey, Aid."

"First Aid," Prowl corrected.

"I'm going to call him Aid," Sam said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"But that isn't his designation!"

"Prowl," Optimus said. "Sam's full name is 'Samuel James Witwicky'. In his culture, humans call each other by their first names, and often shorten those names or come up with nicknames for each other."

"Is it because their language is so slow?" Beachcomber asked.

"Possibly. It just seems to be something they do, however," Ratchet replied.

"It's ridiculous," Prowl snorted.

"You're ridiculous," Sam replied, glaring at the mech.

Several mechs laughed at that, but one glare from Prowl shut them all up. "You are rude," he said.

"You are bossy."

Prowl's optics flared. "You need to learn respect."

"You need to learn when to shut your mouth," Sam replied, arching an eyebrow.

"Enough," Optimus commanded calmly. "Prowl, stop commanding Sam about. He's not one of your soldiers."

"But he's rude!"

"Oh, and you're not?" Sam asked with a sneer. "Just because you have power does not mean you can just go and say what you're thinking."

"Here here!" Sunstreaker said happily.

"Sunstreaker!" Prowl snapped then looked back at Sam. "I can already tell that I'm not going to like humans much."

"Aw, boo hoo, my little heart's broken," Sam said dramatically, receiving more laughs from Sunstreaker and the mech beside him.

"Oh, you're really showing the human who's boss Prowl, right Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker asked, nudging the mech beside him.

"Without a doubt!" Sideswipe laughed.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, stop it this instance!" Prowl growled, his optics slowly turning purple.

"Wow you're easy to get to," Sam said with a soft chuckle.

"Samuel that is enough!" Optimus snapped and Sam started in surprise.

Optimus had never, ever yelled at him before. Scolded him, yes. Lectured him, yes. But not yelling. Optimus didn't yell. Especially not at him. Bumblebee gave a trill of anger and started speaking to Optimus in Cybertronian, but Sam didn't want to listen. His heart was heavy and it hurt. His eyes burned, but for the first time in a while, the boy pushed away his emotions like he'd done before when he'd still lived with his abusive parents. Ron might have physically abused him, but Judy had emotionally and verbally abused him. She had never listened, never cared, so he had withdrawn into himself and taught himself not to feel. When she spoke to him, which wasn't often, it was always yelling. Sam hated yelling. So without any conscious thought, he lowered his head, hid his face with his hair, and blocked the emotional pain running through his chest.

Bumblebee must have sensed something wrong because he was immediately raised up to optic level. "Sam? Sweetling, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said in a blank tone.

Bumblebee gave a shriek of disbelief. "Optimus, look what you did!"

"Sam, I didn't mean to yell at you," the leader of the Autobots said soothingly. "But you can't just talk to Prowl like that. He's not used to you and your kind's way of interacting. He doesn't understand."

"Yeah? He's not the only one," Sam said tonelessly. He heard a sharp intake of air from the Prime.

"Sam, you don't mean that," Bumblebee said softly.

Sam didn't reply for a moment. "I'm tired," he finally said, still looking down at his lap. "I want to go to bed."

He could feel thirteen pairs of optics on him and he loathed it. He knew the new ones were judging him nine ways to Sunday, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. If they didn't know by now, Ratchet or Optimus would soon tell them that he was emotionally unstable. That he had been abused and scarred by his own parents, and Sam had a feeling that they wouldn't understand like Optimus and his team had.

Bumblebee carried him through the mechs over to his berth, setting the boy down gently. His holo-form appeared and embraced him, trying to get him to relax. It didn't work. He felt angry and hateful and upset, but he showed none of it. As he wrapped the warm blanket over his body and hid his face in it, he felt it. After all this time, he was going to be broken again, and this time, he feared nobody would come to his rescue.


	4. Conflict

Here's another chapter. I really am enjoying writing this plot. It is fun, though mean. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I am writing it.

* * *

Sam had quickly grown to loathe the newcomers. At first he hadn't minded too much that Optimus and his team were distracted by them; they were the first other Autobots they'd seen in over a five hundred Earth years. But after two weeks, it was really annoying. Even Bumblebee paid little to no attention to him. He knew it would sound selfish so he said nothing about it, but the hollow feeling he had felt from before the Autobots arrival was coming back.

He sat at a distance and watched as the Autobots worked at expanding the base for the new arrivals. He had done the same thing every day since the project began a week ago. He sighed and leaned back against a tree, looking at the sky. A soft whispering sound, like the wind, caressed his ear and he sat up straight, looking around for the source.

Sam growled and whispered back. "Who are you?"

"A friend," the barest of whispers said. wiki/Wendigo

"What are you?"

A soft, almost nonexistent laugh answered him.

"Leave me alone!" he snapped.

"Pardon me, little one," a surprised voice said shyly. "I didn't mean to intrude on your thoughts."

"Oh," Sam muttered. "First Aid. What do you want?"

"I-I just noticed that you looked lonely," he said quietly, sitting down beside him. "I know what it's like, so I came to keep you company for a while."

Some of the hollow feeling disappeared and Sam smiled. "Thanks. It is a little lonesome with you all working so hard."

"We're almost done. We should finish by tomorrow if we work through the night."

"That's good. I miss my guardian. He usually stays by my side all the time. It's hard to be away from him for an extended period of time."

First Aid tilted his head to the side. "Bumblebee really wants to come over and sit with you, but Prowl won't let him. He doesn't want any of us to stop working."

"Why doesn't Optimus stop him?" Sam asked.

"Well, he's as eager to get this done as Prowl is. Optimus Prime can really push when he wants to. In this instance, Prowl is pushing for him."

"Well I think that's-" Sam started.

"First Aid, what do you think you're doing?"

First Aid gasped and leaped up, looking frightened. "Prowl! I was just talking to Sam.

"Why?"

"Well, he looked a little lonely," First Aid said sheepishly.

"We need to get this done, not cater to a single human," Prowl said disdainfully.

First Aid frowned. "But you know what Optimus Prime said about him. He could still be unstable."\

"My words still stand. Now get over here!"

First Aid looked back at Sam, looking sorry, but he obeyed his superior and hurried over to work. The mechs watching the scene just looked away when it was over. Even Bumblebee didn't look back at him. Sam felt the hollow, numb feeling return and he stood and walked back to his clearing.

He sat down and stared at the ground, feeling nothing. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever feel anything again. His guardian had turned away from him. Out of all of the first five mechs he knew, it was Bumblebee that he didn't want to lose. He noticed a sharp looking rock and he reached out to grab it. Without thinking, he pulled back his sleeves to reveal his pale, scarred wrists. He stared for a while then placed the sharp end on his left wrist and jerked.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bumblebee was irritated. He wanted more than anything to go and speak to his human boy, but every time he tried, Prowl stopped him. He focused on the work as much as he could, knowing the sooner they finished, the sooner he could hold Sam again. An angry shout from Prowl made him look up and he watched the ensuing scene with First Aid. His optics were drawn down to his boy, who looked angry. Suddenly his face went blank and Bumblebee felt alarm rush through him. Just as he was about to head over, Prowl turned and looked directly at him, threats in his optics. The threats were almost not enough to keep him still. Almost. He turned away and focused back on his work. When he looked back again, Sam was gone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam carefully watched the blood as it washed from his skin. The torn edges of said skin were red with threatening infection, but he didn't care. He was still too numb to care. There was a ripple on the earth beneath him and he heard something rumble behind him. He turned to see a mech made of earth standing there, staring at him with red optics.

"You were made of water in the last dream," Sam said absently.

A soft laugh, dark and reminding the boy of pain-filled days, came from the mech's mouth. "Whoever said this was a dream?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "It's a dream. Things like this don't happen in real life."

"Very well then," the mech replied. "Let the dream continue."

"Whatever you say, buddy."

"You do not like Prowl," the earthen mech said.

"He's cruel and cold and doesn't let anybody do anything unless he approves of it. No, I don't like him," Sam spat, his fists clenching; the clenched muscles made the fresh cuts throb on his wrists.

"Hmm, he reminds you of your father. Especially those dark nights when he would come in your room and beat you because he didn't have another outlet. And you were always afraid that he would do worse to you."

Sam felt sick with remembered fear. "You're not like the water mech, are you?"

"We are acquainted," the mech replied, a strange tone in his voice. "But let us focus on you."

The boy suddenly felt uneasy. "I'd rather not."

"But I'd rather so."

"No," Sam muttered.

"Bumblebee turned away from you," the mech said.

Sam felt anger bloom in his chest. "Yes," he growled, tears in his eyes.

"But he's your best friend. Why would he do that?"

"I-I don't know," he said, looking into the pool of water.

"Maybe he's grown tired of you? You are only a human, after all. You're squishy and different from anything he'd ever seen."

Sam whimpered and covered his eyes. "Go away. Please go away."

"You know it's true, little one," a soft whisper said in his ear before everything went silent again.

Sam let out a soft sob and others followed. He was miserable. And there was nobody to comfort him. They were all too busy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam walked into the finished base early the next morning. He had his sleeves pulled down to hide the cuts he'd made the night before and the fresher ones from this morning. His stomach swooped as he was picked up abruptly and nuzzled.

"There you are, Sam," Bumblebee said brightly. "I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm fine, Bee," Sam said, noticing they way he said it; he sounded like before they had figured out he could lie.

Bumblebee was immediately worried. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Sam snapped angrily. "Now put me down and go spend time with your new damn friends."

"Oh, Sam," Bumblebee crooned. "You're my friend still."

"Could've fooled me," he growled. "Put me down."

"No," the yellow mech refused. "I shall hold you as long as I like."

Sam stood and jumped, landing on the ground with a grunt before trudging angrily away from his guardian. Bumblebee made a surprised squealing noise and Sam could again feel optics on him. He hated it. What did they care?

A rougher hand picked him up and he found himself optic-level with Ironhide, who didn't look happy.

"What's gotten into you, boy?"

"What's gotten into _me_?" Sam asked incredulously. "Boy, you all really are dense."

Prowl chose that moment to cut in. "You are angry because we do not lavish attention on you."

It wasn't a question so Sam didn't grace it with an answer, but instead turned and glared at Prowl, his wrists throbbing with the pain he couldn't release any other way. Prowl met his gaze with an arrogant, know-it-all one of his own.

"I'm right," Prowl said smugly. "Aren't I?"

"Damn you," Sam snapped.

"You're spoiled," Prowl said purposefully. "You need to get used to less attention. You're not a child anymore."

Sam felt pain and anger drip into that place inside of him with each word. He watched Prowl with blank eyes as his heart was torn out.

"Prowl, stop it," Optimus suddenly commanded.

"It's the truth, Optimus Prime, and he needs to hear it."

"Remember what we discussed about him," Optimus said, his optics glued on Sam, worry blooming in his spark.

"Sir, I believe you're overdoing it. Spoiling him. He's only human," Prowl said.

"So all this because I'm not worthy to have anybody's attention?" Sam asked with a disturbing smile. "All because I'm human. Because I'm not made of metal."

"Yes," Prowl said sternly. "You're not even going to live long enough to make an impact in our lives."

There was an explosion of noise as Bumblebee, Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Jazz began talking all at once. Sam once again jumped down and headed back out the door. He walked back to the clearing and sighed, sitting back down and feeling lonelier than ever. Without thinking, he again picked up the rock and moved it to his bared forearm.

"What are you doing?"

Sam looked up to see the water mech staring at him with soft blue optics.

"Cutting myself," Sam replied as he dragged the rock across his skin.

The water mech walked forward and placed a hand against the welling blood, washing it away. Sam looked at him as the pain, which had been sharp and sweet moments before, disappeared under the gentle hand.

"Why do you not just talk to them?"

"They wouldn't understand," Sam said bitterly, tears blurring his vision.

"What makes you think that little one?"

"They're not worthless humans," Sam whispered. "They don't want to hear about my problems. I'll die and they'll just forget about me anyways."

"Do you really think that?" the mech asked kindly. "Do you really think Bumblebee would be able to forget you so easily?"

"I…Maybe not Bee, but the others, yes," Sam muttered.

"Optimus?"

"Okay, not him either…or Ironhide, or Ratchet, or Jazz, but the others would forget me."

"They barely know you right now," the mech crooned. "Spend some time with them, and they'll start to like your uniqueness just as the others have."

"Do you really think so?" Sam asked, reaching up with the hand that held the rock and wiping the tears on his cheeks away with the back of his hand.

"You're a very special boy. I'm sure that if you try hard enough, you'll find they'll start liking you for who you are. Not for what you'll become, not for what you've been, but who you are now."

Sam looked at him, startled. What a strange thing for a mech to say, he thought. It was like this mech knew the past and the, dare he say, future."

"What do you mean by…that," Sam said and looked around for the mech, who had suddenly disappeared.

He looked down and considered the mech's kind words. He seemed so sure that the others would accept him for who he was, even Prowl and Sunstreaker. As he considered the new mechs, he realized that First Aid was already taking to him. A small smile curled his lips. Maybe if he did talk to them…

But it wouldn't work. They thought he was a worthless human…

But they were his friends…

But they were alien robots from another planet, a metal planet…

Sam whimpered as the two conflicting sides of the argument filled his head. He dropped the rock, the fresh cut on his other arm throbbing, and covered his ears, tears sliding down his cheeks. He was so confused.


	5. Indecision

Ta-dah! New chapter! Enjoying this story more and more, peoples! And be sure to thank Tora Marikama for all the wonderful ideas! Enjoy!

* * *

"We need to talk," Optimus said sternly, his optics blazing.

He had managed to calm everybody down, noticing Sam was missing again in the process, and now they were all sitting there in strained, angry silence. There were two clear sides on this, and then there was a line that only two mechs were treading. On the one side, there was the Prime himself, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Jazz. On the other, there were most of the newcomers. On the thin line between them was First Aid and Beachcomber.

"Optimus, you're not just going to sit by and let them insult Sam like that, are you?!" Ironhide demanded.

"Yeah, mech. I can tolerate a lot, but that's crossin' the line!" Jazz snapped.

Bumblebee just was deathly silent, his optics glued on Prowl. There was a fierce hatred in those normally kind optics. Prowl glanced nervously at him before he spoke up.

"You must see the point, Ironhide," he said. "Sam is a human and their life spans are so much shorter than ours it's laudable! You don't honestly think he'll make a difference in our lives, do you?"

"I know he _has_," Ironhide said emphatically. "And he will continue to. _You _just need to give him a chance."

Prowl snorted and was about to reply when Optimus held up his hand.

"Prowl, as, well, logically based as your opinion is, it is wrong. And even if you keep that viewpoint, does that mean he doesn't have emotions? Feelings that can get hurt as you and I do?"

Prowl shifted uncomfortably. "I…well…He does, but it cannot matter that much, can it? You say he is sensitive, but I do not see why you indulge him every time he wants it."

"It isn't that he wants it, Prowl. It's that he needs it," Ratchet said.

"'Sides, that's not true. We don't indulge him in everything," Jazz put in. "He does have rules that he must abide by."

"Yes," Optimus said. "He has restrictions, though they are toned down as he is human."

"The rule about sweets comes to mind," Ratchet muttered, crossing his arms and looking annoyed. "I swear that boy eats too much sugar."

"Sugar?" First Aid asked.

"It's an ingredient in many of the foods he consumes. He eats too much of it. It's very sweet an appealing to humans. Some is alright, but too much is unhealthy. Human sparklings tend to want it more than healthier foods."

"I'd like to know more about human nutrition," First Aid said.

Ratchet smiled at him. "Later."

"I still don't understand!" Prowl exclaimed. "What sets this boy apart from other humans?"

"Tell them," Bumblebee said suddenly.

Optimus, Ironhide, Jazz, and Ratchet looked wary.

"Are you sure?" Optimus asked.

"I want to see their guilt-ridden faces as they realize the damage they can do, and have done, to my boy through ignoring him and insulting him when they thought he wasn't listening."

"What has this boy gone through?" Beachcomber asked quietly. "You've been reluctant to tell us. Maybe it would be better if you did."

"Very well then," Optimus sighed. "Sam was born into a family who didn't care about him. He was verbally, emotionally, and physically abused throughout his entire life. He has many scars, which is why he wears that make-up on his face and why you haven't given him a medical exam, First Aid. He's very shy about them in front of mechs he doesn't know or trust. He was nearly beaten to death by his father, which was what prompted us to allow him to lodge here with us. He is very emotionally naïve and sensitive, and if we don't provide him with the comfort he needs, he might resort to drastic means to escape the pain."

"And by drastic you mean?" Prowl asked in a bored tone of voice.

"Suicide. He might try to kill himself."

There was silence as the mechs contemplated this. Prowl looked startled at that. In Cybertronian culture, suicide was pretty much unheard of. The fact that humans took their own lives was something that bothered the new arrival, including Prowl.

"I…maybe I can relax a little bit," the mech mumbled. "But I still see no point for us to worry so much about him. He's only human."

"He's a friend," Bumblebee said coldly. "And if you ever say such a thing about Sam again, I will personally rip you to shreds."

"Can I watch?" a quiet voice asked.

"Sam! How long have you been there?" Bumblebee asked, hurrying over and scooping him up tenderly.

"Long enough," Sam replied, pressing into the yellow mech's chest and hiding his face. "Thanks."

He didn't tell Bumblebee about the cuts that now covered his forearms from his wrists to his elbows. He didn't tell him that even the old ones were still hurting and were starting to redden and swell. He simply lay there, too embarrassed and ashamed to show him how much he'd been hurting.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He could feel the mech watching him. Even though he was used to being stared at by the Autobots, Sam was rather annoyed because every time he turned around, the mech was 'busy'. After over two hours of this game Sam spun around and swore.

"Damn it, Hound, if you're going to stare at me, at least be bold about it! Stop this silly game! If you have something to say to me, say it!"

He could feel the new mechs staring at him in shock; they still were confused by him. Hound looked embarrassed, his optics a faint pink. He shifted then took a large intake of air and walked over to him, kneeling down to see him better.

"Optimus told us that you have scars, yet I have seen no marring of your skin. They mentioned you wear make-up. I looked up what it was on the internet. I take it that it is why your face does not look like a human's should?"

Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"The black around your eyes and on your lips. Humans do not generally have that, yes?"

"Oh. No, they don't. It's just…my thing."

"And the scars?"

"What about them?" Sam snapped angrily, looking away.

"So you do have scars?"

"Yes, I have scars. No you're not going to see them. No I don't care if you get pissier than Ironhide about it. Get over it. Anymore questions?"

"Why are you so sensitive about them?"

Sam paused and thought about that. "Well, they just remind me of…dark things. I don't like being reminded of them, and it seems as if Cybertronians have a sick fascination with them. Ironhide used to refuse to let me cover them or wear make-up around them until you all came along and I rather forcefully asserted that I was not going to let you all see them."

"But you truly seem ashamed of them, and I see no reason for that shame. I have scars as well. Even First Aid has scars, but we aren't ashamed of them."

"You got yours from battle, from enemies. I got mine from somebody who was supposed to protect me and love me. There's a big difference."

Hound was rendered speechless by that and stood up looking troubled. Sam could tell he really didn't understand, but there was no way for him to actually convey what it felt like. The markings on his skin reminded him of humiliation and fear, pain and loneliness. It made him feel broken and worthless.

As he settled into his depressing thoughts, his attention was drawn back to his arms, which were still hurting. The last time he'd looked, his arms were an angry red and swollen badly. He was starting to fear what was happening to him. It was increasingly painful to touch them, or have _anything_ touch them for that matter, and some of the cuts leaked a strange pus. Despite this, he had added to the cuts just that morning. It still made him feel ashamed, so he didn't mention it to anybody, not even Bumblebee.

"Sam!"

The boy jerked his head up. "Yes Ratchet?"

"Time for your midday sustenance intake."

Sam made a face as he stood and walked over to the medic. "Can't you just say 'Time for lunch'?"

"I most certainly could," the green mech replied.

"Would you?" Sam asked.

"I most certainly won't. I enjoy the look on your face when I say it my way," Ratchet said with a mischievous smile.

"What's for lunch?" Sam asked, giving up that battle.

"Elbow pasta cooked with white sauce and smothered in cheese."

"So…macaroni and cheese?" Sam said with a raised eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

"Green beans," Ratchet said with a laugh. "But you do get sweet tea."

Sam groaned. "Gee, thanks."

Ratchet sighed. "Why do you fight me like this Sammy? I'm only looking out for your health."

"I know, Ratchet," Sam replied. "You just can't imagine the tastes of some of the vegetables you have me eat."

"I'm sorry Sam, but you need to intake the proper nutrition in order to remain healthy."

"Again, Ratch, I know. I'll eat it."

Sam was carried in and set down beside the little kitchen in the corner of the base where the others wouldn't mess with it and he served himself and began eating. He felt even guiltier about his cutting now since Ratchet was so concerned about his health, but he didn't have the courage to tell the medic about his problem. Ratchet would be so upset, so angry with him, and then he would be disappointed, which Sam most certainly didn't want. His appetite had fled, but he ate a healthy portion to satisfy the medic, who had been meticulously watching what he ate since he got there.

When Sam moved to do the dishes he realized he had two choices: get his sleeves wet or pull them up to reveal his scars. To his relief, Ratchet told him to go and try to make more friends with the new mechs. After a sharp stab of pain shot through his arms, Sam rushed outside to the forest, hid in the shade and pulled up his sleeves. A frightened whimper left him. They were even worse now than they had been before. They were so swollen and red that Sam was sure they were infected, but fear paralyzed him.

He knew he would have to tell somebody, but who? Ratchet would be angry and disappointed, so not him. Optimus and Bumblebee would be the same. There was Jazz and Ironhide, or First Aid, or even Beachcomber, but he wasn't sure. The choices ran through his head even as he pulled his sleeves down, hissing as they rubbed his swollen flesh, and walked calmly out into the sunshine. He looked around and began weighing his options.

One by one he checked them off his list, starting with the obvious one. By the time he was done mentally listing the Autobots he realized that no matter who he turned to, he would eventually have to face all of them. He most certainly wasn't going to tell all of them at once, however; that kind of influx of emotion would probably make him sick. He already knew he was going to cry no matter who he told, so he wanted it to be a trusted friend.

He went back through the list of the five Autobots he knew the best, weighing the pros and cons of telling each of them. This time, he had an answer and he headed to where he knew the mech would be. His stomach had butterflies in it, but he shoved it down. He had to tell. Even if they were angry at him. Or hated him. His stomach clenched, but he kept walking. Soon the mech he wanted to talk to was in sight, off alone in one of the more open areas of the forest. Sam stood there for a moment then took a deep breath and stepped over to him.

* * *

*laughs* Evil Cliffhanger!


	6. Revelation

Am updating! Please enjoy. And suggestions for the next chapter would be welcome. ;)

* * *

"Hey, um, Ironhide?" Sam asked quietly. "May I speak with you a moment?"

"Sam!" Ironhide said happily. "Certainly. Come sit with me!"

Sam moved to sit in front of Ironhide, suddenly feeling very small. He cleared his throat and gathered his courage.

"You remember you said that if there was ever something I needed to talk about that others wouldn't understand I could talk to you about it, right?" Sam asked shyly.

Ironhide's face grew serious. "Of course Sam," he said. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes," Sam said, lowering his face as tears stung his eyes.

Ironhide's holo-form suddenly appeared and tilted his head up. "Tell me, Sam."

"I can't," Sam whispered. "I…I can show you though. Promise you won't hate me?"

Ironhide frowned slightly but nodded. "I could never hate you Sam."

Sam took a deep breath and slowly slipped off his jacket. As soon as it hit the ground, Ironhide gasped and grabbed his hands, pulling his arms straight to get a better look. Sam held his breath and waited for the inevitable question. He let out a soft sob of pain as Ironhide lightly dragged his fingers across his swollen flesh.

"What happened, Sam?" Ironhide asked, his voice broken.

Even as Sam answered, he knew that Ironhide already knew. "I started cutting. I…I think it's infected."

Ironhide couldn't help but give him a 'you think?' look. "Oh, Sam. Why?"

"You all were ignoring me. Prowl was being, well, Prowl. I just felt so numb, so lonely, so lost. Before I knew what I was doing, I sliced my arm open. I can't seem to stop now," Sam said brokenly. "And I'm afraid to tell the others, 'Hide. I don't want to see them hate me!"

"They won't hate you, Sam. They could never hate you. Well, Prowl, maybe, and maybe Sunstreaker, but they won't hate _you_. They'll hate the human population in general. I digress… We need to tell Ratchet so he can treat you."

"I'm scared," Sam moaned, covering his face with his jacket and whimpering.

Ironhide, not his holo-form, but the mech himself, picked Sam up gently and embraced him while he stood. He held the boy against his chest as he walked into the base and straight to the med-bay. He knocked on the frame and Ratchet and First Aid turned from what they were doing and looked at Ironhide.

"We need to talk to you in private, Ratch," Ironhide said.

"We're a bit busy, 'Hide. Could you come back later?" Ratchet replied and began to turn back to his project.

"No," Ironhide said in a serious tone. "This is important. It involves Sam and his wellbeing."

Ratchet turned back sharply and ordered First Aid out. The mech complied as quickly as he was able and the door slid shut behind the younger medic. Ratchet strode forward and looked at the boy huddled in Ironhide's hands, scanning him for the first time in a while. He was immediately alarmed.

"He's got a fever. Give him here Ironhide."

"Let me talk to you first."

"Alright, what is it?" Ratchet asked irritably.

"Sam's been cutting himself."

The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was no movement in the room except for Sam's shivering. He just knew the mech would hate him for what he'd done. Ratchet reached over and gently took him from Ironhide's hands and set him on the berth. He was shirtless in a moment and the medic began scanning his arms carefully, running his fingers lightly over the wounds, just as Ironhide had. Sam let out a sob and Ratchet ceased immediately.

"Oh, Sam, let me clean these for you," Ratchet crooned.

Sam sat there as Ratchet got soap and water and his holo-form began to gently clean the wounds. Even his light touch sent shockwaves of pain through him and he cried with Ironhide holding him. When that was done, Ratchet set about to drain the pus. His skilled actions still left Sam in tears. Ironhide left the room to inform the others of Sam's condition as Ratchet got some hydrogen peroxide to clean out the wound thoroughly. Sam balked at that.

"No! It's gonna hurt too bad!"

"Sam, please let me help you," Ratchet said somberly, his optics sad and pleading.

Sam couldn't say no. "I'll probably scream."

"Then scream. Just let me help you."

Sam took a deep breath then Ratchet poured the solution over the wounds. True to his word, Sam let out a blood curdling screech as the peroxide bubbled. It just hurt so _badly_! There was a crash at the door and Bumblebee raced in, his optics wild he was by the berth in a heartbeat, his holo-form securely wrapped around Sam, holding him as he sobbed.

One by one, the other mechs filed in, but Sam couldn't care less about them. He searched for Optimus' optics and when he met them, he couldn't keep them. They were so disappointed, so upset that Sam felt tears slide out of his own eyes and he turned his face away from the Prime. Bumblebee hummed behind him as Ratchet continued to tend to his arms. As the pain disappeared, Sam felt a sharp poke and he gasped and looked at the medic in confusion. Suddenly a wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed through him and his eyes closed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam woke up to the most bizarre conversation about butterflies. He lay there for a moment then opened his eyes. As soon as he did, arms wrapped him and he was pulled against a chest. He turned his face to see Bumblebee lying there staring at him with love in his optics.

"Sam," he greeted warmly, his voice heavy with sadness. "Ironhide told us why, but…_why_? Did you think you couldn't come to us?"

"You were all so busy with the new mechs," Sam whispered, averting his gaze.

Bumblebee forced him to look at him again. "We love you Sam. You should know by now that we will listen to your problems."

"You really care," Sam sighed. "I just keep forgetting, Bee. Sometimes it's hard to remember when you guys are never around to talk to."

"Yeah, well that's changing. As of now, I am your guardian full time unless Optimus really, really needs me. Even Prowl can't tell me what to do concerning you."

Sam smiled and snuggled into Bumblebee, a twinge from his arm making him flinch. He knew that Optimus was there; he could feel the optics boring into him. He hid his face as the Prime spoke.

"After all the progress we had made with you, you still are surprised when we opt to listen," he said with his deep voice.

"Yeah, well, nobody ever listened to me before you guys," Sam muttered. "What am I supposed to do? Ignore the way I've been raised?"

"No. You're supposed to let us help you!" Ironhide exclaimed. "You keep running away and hiding when you're hurt and need us."

"Yeah?" Sam asked as he pushed himself to sit up. "Well Prowl made it pretty clear that as long as he's around, I'm not supposed to be weak!"

"Getting help for problems is not a weakness!" Optimus shouted.

Sam flinched, cowering into his guardian at the tone. Optimus realized what he'd done and took a deep breath, calming himself. His holo-form self appeared in front of Sam and he reached out to stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry for yelling, Sam, but you must realize that we do not think any less of you for coming to us with your problems, and we never will."

"In fact," Ironhide said kindly. "I am very proud of you for coming to me with your cutting, even though you waited a little too long for my liking."

Sam shrugged. "What else was I supposed to do, wait till my arms fell off?" He paused and there was an awkward silence. He searched for a subject and came up with only one. "What was all that about butterflies?"

"Oh, the Butterfly Project," Bumblebee said brightly. "It's a project to help people refrain from cutting. We thought it might be a lovely idea for us to try it and see if it would help you."

"Okay," Sam said slowly, still not sure about it.

"The rules are as follows," Ratchet began. "When you feel like you want to cut, take a marker or pen and draw a butterfly on wherever the self-harm occurs."

"Then you name the butterfly after a loved one, or someone that really wants you to get better," Bumblebee put in.

"NO scrubbing the butterfly off," Ironhide said sternly.

"If you cut before the butterfly is gone, it dies. if you don't cut, it lives," Optimus continued. "And if you have more than one, cutting kills them all."

"Another person may draw them on you," Jazz said with a smile. "These butterflies are extra special."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Did you guys just quote all that stuff?"

"Yes," they all said in unison.

"So?" Bumblebee said after a pause. "Do you want to try it?"

Sam looked down at his bandaged arms. He didn't want to cut anymore; it upset his friends. But he knew for a fact he was hooked on the sensation, and that if he had known about how it felt before, he would have started ages ago. He felt warmth sliding down his face and he pressed into his guardian.

"If it'll make you all happy," he said quietly. "I'll try it. But can we wait until my arms heal a little? I don't think taking a marker to my arms is the best thing right now."

"Certainly," Ratchet said cheerily. "Now, time for sustenance intake."

Sam stared at him for a moment before sighing and letting out a soft laugh.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam stared at the eight mechs in front of him. Bumblebee held a marker and was staring at him with such a kind expression that the boy felt a little ashamed of the reasons behind his cutting. He took a deep breath then held out his right arm and nodded.

"Okay, Bee. Try not to make it too fancy, okay?"

"I've got the perfect design in mind, Sam," Bumblebee said as he pressed the marker onto his skin and began to draw.

Sam sat there and marveled at the strange feel of the marker against his skin as he looked up at the ceiling. Bumblebee was done quickly and the boy looked down and smiled. There on his right wrist was a happy looking bee. The mech looked pleased with his work and handed the marker off to Ratchet.

The medic took his turn drawing a wrench, Ironhide drew a nice little weapon with quick strokes of the marker, and Jazz drew a musical note, each of them putting their names under it. Optimus drew an Autobot insignia on his left wrist and Hound drew a nice little rose, First Aid drew a medic's cross, and finally Beachcomber drew a peace sign.

The other mechs had either been too embarrassed by what had happened or didn't care enough to actually participate in the Butterfly project, but Sam didn't mind. It was nice just to see that three of the new mechs did care enough to help him. As he stared at the markings on his arms, a warm smile came to his face and he murmured the only word that could express his emotions.

"Thanks."


	7. Blast from the Past

Here we are. Chapter 7! Please enjoy!

If you have any suggestions, I welcome them. :)

* * *

Sam stared blankly at the knife. He was exceedingly confused. Wasn't the whole point of the Butterfly Project for him not to cut? So why was Ratchet giving him a knife? The same question seemed to be radiating from Bumblebee and Ironhide, the latter looking angry.

"Ratchet, what is the meaning of this?" Ironhide demanded.

"He needs something sterilized to cut with if the urge hits. I do not want him using rocks," Ratchet said defensively.

Sam blinked. That made sense. The rocks had caused such a bad infection that Sam was actually relieved to have something safer to cut with. He smiled up at the medic, ignoring Ironhide's angry glare.

"Thanks, Ratch," he said with a smile.

"You are quite welcome, Sam. Now, there are a few instructions that go with this…"

An hour and a half later, Sam's head was reeling. The influx of information was just too much. Ratchet had instructed him on when to come for medical attention, how deep he should cut, and even had given him a tetanus shot (though where he got the damned shot, Sam wasn't sure). Just as Sam folded up and pocketed the knife and turned to walk away, Ratchet spoke again.

"Oh, and one more thing," Ratchet said, and Sam's eyes widened. "Get ready to leave. First Aid and I are going to take you grocery shopping."

Sam's demeanor relaxed and the small smile he had donned disappeared. "You never let me get what I want anyways. Just go without me."

"First Aid wishes to spend some time with you. You shall ride with him," Ratchet said as if Sam hadn't spoken.

Sam's head fell back and he sighed. "Fine."

Fifteen minutes later Sam was sullenly sitting inside of First Aid as they headed to the supermarket. The silence inside the vehicle was awkward, the medic unsure of what to say to the boy. Sam finally let out a breath.

"So how's life treating you?"

"Pardon? Oh…Life is treating me…fine?"

"Yep," Sam answered the question. "That's a right answer."

"Oh, good," the medic sighed. "Some things in this language confuse me. The double meanings have made Ironhide and Ratchet, and sometimes even Jazz, laugh at me. I don't understand it all."

He sounded sad, so Sam pet his steering wheel lightly, making the mech giggle.

"That tickles," he said softly.

"I know," Sam replied, sounding amused. "But Bee says it makes him forget when he's upset about something."

First Aid hummed. "I suppose it did." He paused. "I have a question."

"Shoot," Sam said, reclining back.

"What are the other humans like? The ones visiting tomorrow."

Sam sat bolt upright and gripped the seat hard, making the medic yelp. He ignored the noise and tried to fight down his rising panic.

"What?!" he squeaked. "T-they're visiting?!"

"Um, yes. I thought you knew," First Aid said worriedly.

"No!"

"Maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you that. It's the reason we're going on this shopping trip."

Sam flopped back against the chair and fought back anger and panic. How could they not tell him they were coming? Because they knew he would do just what he was doing now, he thought, answering his own question. He had made his position on seeing other humans quite clear the day after school had let out. The fact that William, Robert, Glen, and Maggie were coming over frightened him. He didn't want other humans to know about the abuse. They would pity him, unlike the mechs who just gave him what he needed without the pity.

"Sam?" First Aid queried hesitantly.

"I'm alright," he sighed. "You just surprised me with the information."

"Why does it bother you?"

Sam debated answering the question for a moment. "Because humans have certain thoughts about abuse and I don't want their pity."

"Oh. But they are your friends yes? They certainly won't judge you in that case."

"I wouldn't say friends. We're acquaintances, if anything. The only friends I have are Autobots."

"Why?"

"Because nobody in my own race cares about me. Humans don't like different. Not really."

First Aid didn't know what to say to that, but they had just arrived at the store. Sam leaped out and watched as Ratchet and First Aid's human holo-forms 'stepped out' of their vehicle forms. First Aid smiled kindly, his blue eyes showing his current discomfort with the human. Sam sighed and turned away; he heard Ratchet querying about his behavior. The boy walked into the store and he heard rapid footsteps. First Aid suddenly appeared beside him.

"Sam!" the mech said, pressing a hand on his shoulder. "I…I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's fine, Aid. I promise," Sam assured him as they entered the store.

It was as bad as Sam remembered. Ratchet went off on a lecture to First Aid about what foods were appropriate, and he didn't let Sam get anything he really wanted. Sam finally couldn't stand it and excused himself to go to the bathroom.

He went in and waited patiently until everybody else left before he sighed and turned the water on, splashing his face a little bit. It wasn't enough to ruin his make-up, but enough to make him feel a little less irritated.

He moved to turn the water off when the spray suddenly arched up and began to fill what looked like a thin outline. Within a minute, the water mech stood in front of him. Sam stepped back, knowing he was not dreaming this time.

"Hi," he said without thinking.

"Hello, Samuel," the mech said with a smile. "You seem to be a little happier this time."

"Eh, I'm trying to stop cutting. Turns out most of them like me."

The mech chuckled softly and lifted a hand up to trace over Sam's cheek. "I knew they would. The ones that don't should eventually. It'll just take a little work."

"Um, alright. Hey, do you know that dirt mech?"

"We've…met," the mech said slowly, leaning against the sink.

"That's almost the same answer the other mech gave," Sam muttered.

"We do not like each other, to put it lightly."

"Why-" Sam heard the bathroom door open and he turned. "-not…"

Ron stood there, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Sam watched with his peripherals as the mech disappeared and water flooded down to the floor, soaking it. But Sam's eyes were riveted on Ron. Panic settled in Sam's chest and his breathing became erratic. Fear. Nothing but raw fear. And Ron stood in the doorway. Sam let out a gasp and the next thing he knew, he had slammed hard into First Aid's holoform. Somehow he had gotten out of the bathroom and into the grocery part of the store. First Aid stood swiftly and reached down towards him.

"Sam, are you alright?"

Sam saw not the kind mech, but his father reaching for him. "G-g-get away!" he shrieked and sprinted out of the store.

He ran for an unknown amount of time, but eventually stopped in an alleyway and curled up in a ball in the corner. It took him an hour to calm down, and he finally uncurled himself out of the ball he'd been in and looked around. He didn't recognize where he was. Something vibrated in his pants and he pulled his phone out and flipped it open. He had fifteen missed calls and his voicemail was full. He took a deep breath and listened to them one by one. The first one was from Ratchet, questioning his abrupt departure. Most of them were of an increasingly panicking Bumblebee. The last one, however, was Optimus Prime's gentle, caring voice telling him to come home or contact somebody.

Sam considered who to call for a moment then dialed for Optimus; he would be the most calm in this situation. The call was picked up immediately.

"Sam? Is that you?" Optimus asked calmly.

"Yes," Sam said quietly.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know," Sam replied.

"Hold on. Ratchet's tracking your signal…What are you doing downtown?"

"I don't know. I just…I saw my dad. He scared me," Sam said in a small voice.

"Oh, Sam. I'm sending Bumblebee to pick you up. No…I'm going to pick you up myself."

"Okay," Sam mumbled. "Hurry, please."

"I will Sam."

Within half an hour Optimus pulled up and opened his door. Sam, who had curled himself back up into a ball, leaped into the cab and snuggled against the passenger seat.

"It's alright Sam," Optimus said gently, his soothing voice washing away the boy's fear.

Sam slowly relaxed and finally sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe Prowl's right about humans. Maybe we are useless."

"You aren't useless Sam," Optimus said sternly. "You aren't a burden, either. Prowl might say those things, but he doesn't know the depth of meaning they possess. I have assigned him to work in the police force. Maybe if he sees human suffering up close he'll realize just how valuable life is. All life."

Sam sighed. "Do you think it will work?"

"We can only hope, Sam. Now, talk to me about what happened."

Sam hesitated and decided to skip the part about the water mech; he didn't need Optimus doing what Bumblebee had done.

"There's nothing much to tell. I went to the bathroom and he came in while I was washing up. I…froze up. Got scared and somehow got past him into the store. I'm sorry I didn't answer any calls, but I was locked up. I can't remember anything after running out of the store. I was…Scared doesn't cover it."

"You were terrified," Optimus said gently. "It's alright to be terrified, Sam. It's understandable considering your past. I've encountered many terrified mechs in my time."

Sam gave a small smile. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Just…being you. You're…like the father I always wanted. Thank you," he repeated.

Optimus let out a throaty purring sound from his engine, which Sam had learned meant Cybertronians were extremely happy. Sam relaxed completely into the seat, but all too soon had to get out and into Optimus' hands.

By the time they reached the base, Bumblebee was in full Guardian Mode. He practically tackled Optimus and wrenched Sam away from him, cradling the boy to his chest. He growled when Ratchet moved forward and slapped away the hands that reached for him.

"No! He is staying with me and he is never leaving my side again!"

Sam didn't dare argue with Bumblebee in this instance. He knew the yellow mech would calm down soon, but for now he was content with staying with Bumblebee. Staying with any of the mechs at this point would help him feel safe. He would even go as far to say that Prowl would make him feel safe. After that thought, Sam sighed and pressed against his guardian. Wow, he really needed to get over this. Somehow.

He thought of the water mech briefly. He had now determined that he wasn't dreaming when he saw those mechs, and that they were two separate mechs. Based on the one encounter with the earth mech, he had a feeling that they were polar opposites. He just wished he knew more about them and why they were coming to talk to him.


	8. Primus and Unicron

Here's the next chapter folks. :)

* * *

Primus was floating invisible in the Autobot base, watching the young boy as he snuggled into his guardian's arms. He sighed softly as the memory of what had happened in the store surfaced. Primus hadn't wanted anybody to see him other than Sam. The boy was the determining factor in this war, even if he didn't know it yet.

Across from him, Unicron sat cross legged with a smirk on his face. He was watching the boy with hungry optics. He looked up, sensing the other god's gaze.

"What?" he snapped.

"The boy will never choose you."

"Oh, but he _will_," Unicron said with a laugh, baring his sharp denta. "I imprinted him first."

"And I imprinted on him," Primus argued calmly. "He bears both of our marks. He must choose, and I believe Sam will choose me."

"What is it with you and the Primes and _choice?_ Besides, is it really a choice if you force it on him?"

"I did not force this on him. You did. I simply gave him the freedom of choice to which direction he wants to go."

"You just delayed the inevitable. He has suffered too much in this life to have any good desires left in him. Once he gets rid of the horrid influence of the Prime, he will fall into my world and cause misery."

"I believe he still has good in him."

"Of course you do. You're an optimist," Unicron muttered then went silence.

Primus went back to staring at the boy, floating down closer to him. He made himself barely visible and smiled at him. Sam's eyes widened and he stared directly at the mech, who appeared to be made of the air itself. Primus leaned forward and softly murmured an apology and kissed the boy's cheek.

Unicron watched in disgust. Primus was much too soft for his tastes. The boy was his anyways. One look into Primus' sweet golden optics and Unicron felt a tiny prick of doubt. Despite all the pain he had given the boy through his life, Sam had never taken to violence and death. The fact that he got the boy to start cutting was his greatest accomplishment with him, but Primus' interference meant that the light mech had stopped many of his plans.

It had been like that for nearly seventeen years.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unicron slithered through the earthlings weak walls into the room where the baby slept. He was less than a month old and was sleeping soundly. His hair was brown and his eyes, when they opened to peer curiously up at him, were brown as well. The mech scooped the newly christened Samuel James Witwicky into his arms and grinned meanly.

Pressing a claw against the boy's left shoulder, he pierced the skin and watched as blood bubbled up. Around the small hole, the Cybertronian symbol for Unicron formed quickly. As he watched, black shot through the boy's hair and watery eyes, changing the color. He smiled and quickly placed the boy down as he started crying and left. He would have his channel in around thirteen earth years, but the boy would cause much damage in that time.

As the boy cried, gentle arms suddenly picked him up and a soothing voice eased him. A single touch to his bleeding shoulder staunched the blood flow and healed the skin, the mark of Unicron fading. The child opened his eyes and stared up at the new mech. He was much gentler and kinder looking than the other mech had been and it soothed him greatly.

Primus lifted Sam to his face and kissed his right shoulder. A shimmering mark appeared, the mark of Primus in all its glory, before it too faded. Primus set the infant down and a howl of anger erupted into the night.

"You ruined it! My plans! Everything!" Unicron howled then calmed and hissed. "No. You will not win this one. I will make his life hell and he will turn to me. I will consume him with pain!"

"I believe in this little one," Primus said, staring at the floating god and smiling. "Samuel…I do believe in you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Primus was floating in the Autobot base the next day as the humans arrived. Greetings were said and they began chatting with the new mechs that actually liked to spend time with humans. All too soon, which saddened the silver god, Sam's secret was revealed and the pitying began. They immediately began treating him differently.

Sam, after growing tired of the pity, left to be alone. Primus and Unicron followed him, both of them noticing the sad looks that the Autobots threw after him and the pitying looks the humans gave. Sam walked to his little private clearing, the two gods following him. Primus lowered himself into the water immediately. The liquid fascinated him. It could be ice cold or boiling hot, frozen or steaming. It could clean or infect. It seemed to be a contradiction to itself sometimes. Unicron said it reminded him of Primus.

"My turn," Unicron said and pulled earth up to cover himself.

Primus watched with deep sadness as Unicron immediately began playing off Sam's pain. It hurt the silver god to see anybody in pain, but he had no choice. Unicron had given him plenty of time with the boy, and now, as the golden one had said, it was his turn. It was only fair, and Unicron played off of Primus' sense of fairness. It still did not feel very fair.

"Hello Sam," Unicron said in a falsely sweet tone. "Others not understand you?"

"Of course not," Sam said unhappily, rubbing his wrists.

"Why would they?" the earthy mech continued, idly walking around the sad boy.

"Huh?" the boy asked, looking highly confused then seemed to realize which mech he was talking to. "Oh, it's you."

"Who else would it be?"

"The water mech. I like him. He's nice like Optimus. You're kinda…blunt and, well, mean."

"I'm just honest," Unicron said smoothly. "I mean, in all seriousness, why would _anyone_ understand you? Look at you. You've been beaten, abused, and abandoned. You're too sensitive to everything. You take everything as an offense. It's a wonder you're not crying now…oh, yes, there are the tears."

Sam growled. "Go away!" he snapped, embarrassed by his tears.

"Oh, Sam. I'm not going away. I shall stay with you until the choice is made. And if I am right, I shall stay well past that. I know all your secrets. I have been with you all your life. I have seen your pain, your humiliation, and everything you want to keep hidden. I know about the secret cutting you've been doing, not on your arms, but elsewhere so you can hide it from the Autobots."

Sam's eyes widened. "Shut up!" he screamed, standing up.

"I know of your deep fear that you will never fit in anywhere. You fear that Prowl is right about you. That you're pathetic and nobody will ever want you."

Sam lashed out, and immediately regretted it. The mech was hard as stone and he gasped as his hand came away bloody. Unicron laughed.

"You really are pathetic, human."

The dirt collapsed as Unicron disappeared and Primus gathered the water to cover him. He walked over and gently cleaned Sam's hand.

"Oh, Sam," he sighed. "Don't cut yourself. Tell the others that you need more help."

"What if they hate me?"

"They love you, Sam," Primus whispered, stroking a strand of hair out of his face.

"I…I guess I could tell them," Sam sighed. "Thanks."

Sam stood up and smiled as the water mech disappeared. He took a deep breath then began walking back towards the base. Meanwhile, Unicron glared at Primus as they floated along.

"You just had to comfort him."

"Hurting him is not the answer," Primus sighed, knowing that no matter what he said, Unicron wouldn't listen to him. "Love is. He needs to know that he is loved."

"Love. That is always your fallback plan. Love is ridiculous."

"Love is all he needs. It's why he will choose me," Primus said confidently.

Unicron narrowed his optics. "We shall see, my old foe. We shall see."


End file.
